Page 54 of Pink Poison

“Max…” I sigh, spreading my legs further for him. Because it’s Max here, behind my closed eyes. It’s Max touching, licking, and sucking on my swollen clit until my legs shake. It’shisforest green eyes, still laced with disdain and arousal, staring back at me while he enters me repeatedly.

I raise my hips to meet his harsh thrusts, knowing that I’m admitting to wanting him—wantingthis.

“Are you going to come for me?”

I don’t have time to second guess how off the voice sounds, or debate who is bringing me to the edge as my orgasm rips through me. The last thing I hear before the darkness takes away what little consciousness I have ismy voicescreaming Max’s name.

Chapter nineteen

Mack

The late afternoon sun beats against my sweat-soaked shirt as I wrench apart the steel frame that was brought in for repairs. “How fast do you think you can have that pulled apart?” Jameson asks as he walks back into the garage.

“Why?” I counter.

He shrugs. “I figure we can celebrate tonight. We’ve got a few leads to run with, and that’s the best news we’ve had in months.”

Looking up, I notice he looks lighter than he has in months, years even. A pebble of guilt sinks in my gut knowing that I’ve been a factor of his stress. I don’t mean to cause him so many problems, and I know my drinking habit doesn’t help him any. I wish I could say that I will stop, but we’d both know it's a lie. I’m stuck in this toxic cycle with myself and everyone in my life.

Push. Pull. Push. Pull.

Until the rope frays and snaps, separating me from the people I care about. I did it with my mother, father, Marissa, andStephanie. Realistically, I know they aren't to blame for all of my problems. But, accepting thatI'mthe problem comes with a flight of baggage I'm not willing to unpack.

Honestly, it's a fucking miracle that I haven’t lost Jameson. There's no doubt in my mind that I would have if he wasn’t such a stubborn bastard. A stubborn bastard who has kept my head above water ever since I ran into him in high school. Stone and Kash came in well after the fact, but they’ve had a hand in keeping me on my feet. Despite having my brothers, the ones I consider my real family, there’s still a piece of me missing. The piece I separated myself from that haunts me every time I close my fucking eyes. One that I’ve had a taste of and only cravemore.

I’m so fucked.

“Mack,” Jameson snaps.

“Huh?”

“Celebrating, you in?” he asks, bringing me back to the present.

Quirking my lip, I give him a nod. “Yeah, man. It’s been a while since we’ve had a reason to celebrate.”

“Too fucking right, brother.” He sighs tiredly. “I’ll call the guys in. Let them loosen up a bit before church since I’ve been dogging them all month.”

“Longer than a month,” I snort.

His glare is immediate before he flips me the finger like the asshole he is. “I don’t recall asking.”

“You know I’m fuckin’ with you.” I laugh. “We could all use a little rest and relaxation—youincluded.”

“I’ll rest when I’m dead,” he deadpans.

I pin him with a bored stare. “You wouldn’t even rest then.”

He laughs. “Ain’t no rest for the wicked.”

Shaking my head, I pull my attention back to dismantling the frame in front of me with a renewed attitude.

Things are finally looking up.

“Bout time you finished up out there,” Jameson teases from behind the bar.

“Shut up,” I grunt. “I didn’t see you out there helping me out.”

He barks a laugh that takes me back to the years before the club went down. Before he took on everyone’s baggage. That pebble of guilt from early grows to a stone in my gut. Has my best friend changed so much that I’ve forgotten how he sounds when he’s happy?

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